The Matter of Non-Existence
by littlelight17
Summary: The daughter of the Maiden goddess. The child who cannot exist. This is her story.
1. Prologue

Prologue

You've heard of Percy Jackson, Thalia and Jason Grace, Nico di Angelo; the children of the gods who should not exist. I am the child of the gods that _cannot _exist. I am Ameana daughter of Artemis.

Ares, the war god, is known for his well, I'll just say he is known for his _temper_. One day my mother lit his easily ignited flame. What she did to upset Ares, I do not know. No mortal does and the gods hardly remember it but as a passing circumstance. Whatever she did, he retaliated. But he crossed the line. He convinced some poor demigod to steal Eros' arrows and used them to punish my mother.

He waited until a hunter was tracking some deer and shot Artemis from behind the poor mortal never stood a chance. I was born nine months later and was luckily not executed. I am afraid I can say as much for the hunter, my father.

My existence broke every rule in the great big rule book of the gods (a pointless book if ask me because honestly name one god who doesn't just do as they wish). A maiden goddess couldn't have a living child or they must resign from the position, unfortunately my mother was not just a maiden goddess, she was the goddess of maidens. I could not live.

This opened up many complications; I couldn't be killed because I would have to be alive in the first place, but they couldn't just let me live, now could they? It was Athena who finally came up with the solution, of course. I must be delivered and grow up in Tartus in a state neither alive nor dead somewhere between the two, it was genius I must admit. And so that is where I am to this day, though I pride myself in the fact I am not exactly what the gods expected.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I grew up in the most feared realm in the universe. I had my monsters as all children do, but mine were real. As soon as I was old enough to hold a dagger they came. They came in all direction I was lucky I was the daughter of the goddess of the hunt (ironic considering the fact I was her daughter was the reason I was here in the first place). I slaughtered the first pack of hellhounds that came my way; that scared the rest away for a time. They did of course come back but it was a mistake. I was eight by then and probably one of the most lethal kid in existence.

The older I got the more practiced in combat I became. I never knew were the weapons came from. I found my first dagger then continued to find various weapons as I grew it wasn't until I was nine when I began to suspect something. I realized the weapons had to come from somewhere: either I was not alone in the Tartus or I had an anonymous benefactor. Personally I preferred the first option; the idea of needing _help _literally repulsed me. I began to leave he weapons having now enough of my own. I had my first visitor within three days.

Apollo was not what I expected from a god the way the furies, for it was they who taught me of the gods and my lineage, spoke gods should have looked commanding and intimidating. Apollo simply looked like someone who needed a good slap. After five minutes of conversation with him I found that to be exactly the case.

"Why aren't you taking the weapons?" were the first words he ever spoke to me

"Hello, my name is Ameana. And you are…"

"Why aren't you taking the weapons?"

"Straight to the point I see. I will answer your question when you answer mine."

"Your what"

"You really are an idiot, aren't you? My question. Who are you?"

"Apollo god of the sun, healing, music, prophecy, and poetry"

"Oh, so you're the god of many useless things?" I asked, probably not what I should of said, but hey, he was being rude.

"The sun and healing are very useful" he said in a dangerous tone. This probably should of warned me but honestly I spent my entire life fighting of monsters on their own turf, flirting with danger was practicly an obligation.

" I seem to manage without either, not that I had a choice."

"Be careful what you say to gods, girl"

Now it was my turn to answer with a dangerous tone "Why? It's not like you can do anything to me; you can't kill me, I am not allowed to die, you can't hurt the people I care about because thanks to you gods there aren't any and you can't make my life miserable because I ALREADY LIVE IN A PLACE WORSE THAN THE FIELDS OF PUNISHMENT!" I was screaming by the end taking all the frustration I'd ever felt toward the gods on the only one I knew and I didn't regret it. I still don't.

He seemed to see the look in my eyes and did one of the smartest things he could have, he apologized "I'm s-s-sorry I should have known you'd be bitter you have reason to be.

I realized that was probably the first apology he ever made, being a god never having to say sorry for anything. It was that more than anything that calmed me down "Am I really that bitter?" I asked and came out as a whisper

"no one can blame you," was his only reply.

"I stopped taking the weapons because I didn't want help." I said finally answering his question.

"That is a very stupid reason."

"Well, there is that and the fact I'd look like a pack mule if I carried anything else around" I said winning my first laugh.


	3. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the long wait.**

Chapter 2

The Tartus is beautiful. I don't think I've ever heard someone describe it that way but it truly is, if people would just take the time to see it. Sure, it has its dark corners but out of what I understand the mainland does too. At least down here the horrors aren't hidden pretending to be paradise when in reality they are just the opposite. Down here you know what you're dealing with.

Maybe that's what I find beautiful about the Tartus, the fact that I can take everything at face value, not having to second guess everything and everybody's motives. Unlike the gods, I know that whenever they are involved you have to watch your back. The furies told me centuries of stories about the power of the gods and the insignificance of heroes; ages of stories of how the demigods were used as the gods' pawns (great babysitters, I tell you).Because of that they never seemed like people I should fear of respect, they just seemed cruel.

That's the reason I had such a hard time accepting Apollo. He didn't come too terribly often but he came enough to make me nervous. What did he want from me? I decide to just be cordial; I was apparently not the best at that.

"Did I ever ask what your favorite color was?" Apollo asked conversationally (a rather cliché question but this was Apollo we are talking about, I was just lucky he wasn't asking it in haiku form.)

"No."

"Well, what is it?"

"Why does it matter?" was my completely logical response.

"To help me get to know you."

"But my favorite color is just a useless fact to add to the long list of statistics about me that are all together irrelevant to truth of who _I _am."

"Deep," he muttered.

"Almost as deep as you," I said sarcastically under my breath. I'm pretty sure he heard me but pretended he didn't. I was thankful once I realized how _mean _it had come out, what had been so funny in my head. I answered his question to make up for it "Rich purple, that's my favorite color."

He smiled and said his was a sunny orange. I told you, he was the king of cliché (and the fact that I said that proves I've spent too much time with him.) I simply laughed at him and asked if he could help me with an odd weapon he had left me once. He had been the one who had left all the weapons. He had thought no one should be in the Tartus, much less live there, without a weapon. He was right of course.

"The weapons master, finally confused," he laughed, "How did you figure them all out, without my expertise?"

"There's thing called common sense. Don't point the sharp thing in you direction, it's pretty simple." I answered with a satisfied smirk.

"Well your smarter than your mom its official," He said with a wink. I rolled my eyes and he continued, "This, my dear is called a bow and arrow. You should be quite the natural considering who your mother is…"

"Oh," I gasped in recognition. I did know what this strange instrument was.

"Now, how about some target practice?"

I laughed and followed him to the side of a tree (dead and creepy mind you, this is the Tartus after all) where he was carving something vaguely resembling a target.

"I can see why you're not the god of art," I said sarcastically.

He crinkled his nose and told me to shut up. "Now, let's start."

"Aren't you going to show me how to shoot first?"

"Oh, yeah," he corrected my stance and showed me how to release the arrow. "Go for it."

"Ughh," we'd been going at it for hours, I'd managed to hit nothing, absolutely nothing.

"I think your defying nature, Amy. You realize your mother is the goddess of archery, right?"

"Maybe it skipped a generation. And you're an archery god too; shouldn't you be a better teacher?"

"I'm a great teacher. You are just determined to be impossible all around, aren't you?"  
"You realize I can use a sword just fine, don't you?"

"Was that an attempt of a threat?"  
"No, it was the execution of one. Pay attention."

"I pay attention."

I simply raised my eyebrows in response. Zeus rumbled and Apollo had to go. He told me to practice some more while he was gone, like that was going to happen. I was still wondering why Apollo seemed to want to help me so bad, he could get absolutely nothing out of it, I was confined to the Tartus. I decided only to worry about it when the time came. Right now he was a good teacher and decent company. I wondered what would have happened if he hadn't come along. I'd probably be having conversations with myself and not the normal ones, the ones where you are two people instead of one.

**Hey, thanks for all of you who read and reviewed it brightened up my day. Please continue to review and send in any plot ideas. I can't promise they will make it but I would love some extra inspiration. I love y'all. :) **


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Apollo didn't visit often; he always said that he had important godly duties to attend too. He was lying. The Tartus freaked him out just like everyone else. I didn't mind too much, the furies left me to fend for myself when I was six, I was used to solitude. I had the life every teenager dreams of, I suppose. I was fourteen by this point and had gotten so good with the weapons the monsters no longer hunted me; I hunted them.

They were my source of food as well as my source of entertainment. I hated to admit it but I enjoyed the hunt. It made me feel bloodthirsty and cold to enjoy it, it made me feel like my mother. But I couldn't help it. It was in my blood and I had to learn to accept that.

With my hunting keeping the monsters at bay I had free time. This was a completely new experience to me. It took a while to get used to. I ended up using it to practice with my weapons. I soon specialized in dual swords, mine were stygian iron and there was an ivy design etched on them in silver. They were named κισσός δίδυμα, the ivy twins. They were something so delicate looking used to do something so harsh. That's what I loved about them.

I got good, very good. When the next monster came, me scent to strong to resist, it didn't stand a chance. It was a drakon, I killed it within two minutes of battle. It was record time for me and it sent chills up my spine. What was I? I brushed this thought off though, whatever I was it was because of my need to survive down here.

No more monsters came after the drakon. They were just as mortal as I was down here and not terribly fond of fighting when they weren't guaranteed the ride back. My life continued on slowly for a while with little variation in my days until Apollo visited again.

The first thing he asked me once we said hello was how many monsters had attacked since he left. When I told him only one he flipped.

"What is going on? They must be up to something but they're monsters, what could they be up to? I mean…"

"Cool it. They're just scared of me."

He snorted in response "Monsters aren't scared of anything."

"No they're scared of a little girl who's nothing. Here, I'll show you. C'mon Uncle A there's a hellhound pack not too far away. Let's go watch them cower." I dragged him to the pack and watched his face as he saw the hounds whimper as soon as I got close.

Off to the side I saw one had recently had a litter. The siblings were all nursing while the runt struggled to get in the group for some milk. "Hey, didn't you say that Percy kid had a pet hellhound?"

"Yeah but Amy I don't think…"

"_I _think it's time I got a hunting dog." I walked over there and grabbed the runt none of the dogs responded, they just stood still as I took their pup, fearful of their own lives. I must be terrifying in battle. I took the hound home and named her Lunette determined she'd be the best hunting dog in _non-_existence.


End file.
